


Survival Instincts

by lightsandsparks



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, CONNOR MURPHY TO THE RESCUE, Connor has had a huge crush on Evan since he was like 10, Depression, Evan has appendicitis, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:42:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsandsparks/pseuds/lightsandsparks
Summary: Evan is suffering in so many different ways. On top of his anxiety and the suicidal thoughts that have been swirling around in the back of his mind all summer, he seems to be developing a pretty nasty case of appendicitis. To make matters worse, his mother's job doesn't offer health insurance, meaning Evan has no intentions of going to the hospital if he has anything to say about it.He's sick of being a burden, sick of his mind, and now he's physically sick as well as in unbearable pain. He just wants it all to stop.He's going to make sure all of it stops.Luckily, Connor Murphy has had a crush on Evan Hansen for as long as he can remember, and he's going to make sure that doesn't happen. Or at least... he's going to try.





	1. Chapter 1

Evan rolls over in bed and groans in pain for what feels like the millionth time today. Well, realistically, it could have only been the fifth... or maybe the sixth time? It's eleven am on a Saturday and he'd only just woken up about two hours ago, after all.

His brain has definitely never been a stickler for realism, though. 

The fact that his mom is a nurse's aid and knows all about this kind of thing helps quell a bit of his anxiety. Evan focuses on counting down the seconds until she gets home. He may still have roughly five hours to go, but he can't really be sure either way. His phone fell the last time he got up and it's currently lying somewhere in the abyss under his bed. Evan prays he turned off all of his alarms because he physically would not be able to handle crawling on his hands and knees right now, even if he wanted to. 

Evan had first woken up around three am this morning with an unfamiliar and worrying pain in the lower right side of his abdomen. He'd been able to fall back asleep at the time, hoping it was just some weird fluke and that it would go away by morning. 

Wrong. He's currently gripping the sheets of his bed so hard that he's starting to pull them away from the mattress. 

Evan has never felt pain like this before in his life, and it's scary. 

It's especially scary considering the fact that if this is something serious, they can't afford to go to the hospital. The position his mother has at the hospital she works for doesn't offer employee benefits, leaving the two of them without health insurance for the time being. She's assured him multiple times that it's only temporary, that she has interviews lined up for jobs that offer benefits, but that doesn't negate the fact that Heidi already has to pay for his medication out-of-pocket. Evan knows they can barely afford that as it is, so he can't allow himself to become an even larger burden with whatever's going on now. 

His mom is due home at two today, having worked another overnight shift at the hospital. The minutes tick by slowly, and he either dissociates or falls back asleep because before he knows it, Heidi is calling softly to him from the door. 

"Honey? Why are you still in bed?" she asks with a teasing tilt to her voice. 

Evan wants to answer properly but the pain in his side is still there, flaring angrily. He keeps his eyes closed as he carefully shifts his head towards where his mom's voice is coming from. "My side. It really hurts." 

He opens an eye and sees her face drop, and immediately recognizes it when her body language transitions into full-on Worried Mom Mode. "Which side, Evan?" 

"My right." 

Heidi quickly sits on the side of the bed and lays a hand on his forehead. "No fever," she notes out loud. "Any other symptoms? Nausea? Throwing up?" He shakes his head as a response. 

She stares at him and Evan feels a little exposed. It's just his mom and he knows it's silly to feel that way, but he closes his eyes again all the same. Hiding. 

"I have a theory," he hears her say, "But it might need to be tested in a slightly uncomfortable way. I'm going to palpate your abdomen and make sure this isn't appendicitis. Is that okay?" 

Evan is still stuck on the word "palpate" because he has no clue what that even means, but he lifts his shirt all the same, hoping against hope that it isn't his appendix, because appendicitis means surgery and hospital stays and bills for every little thing that happens and- 

All previous thoughts leave his head when Heidi lays her cold hand on his bare skin. He tenses, then yelps in pain when she presses her two fingers further into his belly. Nothing can compare to the _agony_ that occurs when she releases that pressure, though. 

"Oh honey," she coos, running her hand through his hair as Evan tries to catch his breath after having practically just screamed in her ear. He feels bad for that, but can't focus on it because he took Health 101 his Sophomore year and yeah, this is probably most definitely without a doubt appendicitis. And it really, _really_ hurts. 

"Well, my mostly-educated guess is it's appendicitis, but we can't be sure yet. We're going to have to go to the hospital for a CT scan to see what's going on." Evan can hear the underlying panic in her voice, despite her obvious attempt at keeping it calm and steady. 

She's not the only one; if Evan could have shot up in bed, he'd have done so immediately. He's unable to move, though. "We can't!" he insists. "W-we don't have health insurance and I'm not even that sick! Like you said, I don't have any other symptoms. What if I get a CT scan and it shows that this is just a p-pulled muscle, or um- something stupid like that?! Then we'll have wasted all that money for n-nothing!" 

"I highly doubt that's the case, Evan," Heidi argues gently. "If I'm right, you'll get very, very sick. Appendicitis can be fatal, sweetheart." 

Well, that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world right now, all things considered. Evan definitely doesn't mention that thought to his mom, though. 

"I'm really not that sick. I'm fine," he tries again. "If I start throwing up or get a fever or whatever, then... t-then we can go to the hospital." 

Heidi looks contemplative, and she's quiet for a long moment. Evan's heart is racing with anxiety and he's about to attempt to fill the silence, to continue to try convincing her that he's okay, but she speaks before he gets the chance. "Alright, hon. I'll be here all night to take care of you, though. I don't have class tonight and I don't have to go into work again until tomorrow morning!" 

"You need to sleep, mom. You just worked a sixteen hour overnight shift." 

She smiles brightly and kisses his forehead. "Evan, you don't need to worry about me. You're the one who's sick." He attempts to argue but she stops him, again. "I'll be right downstairs if you need anything, okay?" 

Evan is left to spiral as his mom leaves him alone. The pain is agonizing, and he pointedly did not mention that to his mother. What would be the point, anyway? So they can go to the hospital and spend thousands of dollars that they don't have, just to "fix" him? Evan can't be fixed. He's known that for a long, long time. 

He's reminded of the plan he's kept in the back of his mind since the beginning of summer. 

Evan managed to get hired as an apprentice park ranger for the summer (Oh crap, he has a shift tomorrow that he's going to need to call out of if he's not better by morning and ugh, he hates the phone so much and now that's just another thing he can add to his already extensive list of worries) and there's a tree that he's had his eye on. 

He climbed it in the beginning of the summer, mostly just because he loves climbing trees, and he'd looked down and realized the fall would probably be enough to kill him. He'd been too nervous to let go then, but... 

He just wants this all to end. The pain, the swirling thoughts, the incredible financial and emotional burden he's putting on his mother. She wouldn't have to do any of this; taking all of those extra shifts to pay for his meds, going to night class just so she could get a better job to support him. What good is Evan if he just keeping getting sick? First it was his brain, and now it's his body. An incurable cycle. 

One that would be so easy to just... end. 

\-- 

Evan falls asleep at some point, and when he wakes up again it's dark. The house is quiet. The next thing he realises is that he's going to throw up. 

He has no choice but to get out of bed, despite the horrible pain. He almost trips over something on the ground, but he's relieved when he sees it's his trash can. His mother must have put it next to his bed just in case. He empties his stomach as quietly as he can and makes his decision. 

Maybe he's delirious; Evan can tell he probably has a fever because he's shivering despite the fact that his skin is burning, but he's sure he's thinking clearly for the first time in his entire life. He doesn't even bother changing - just puts on some sneakers and stumbles down the steps. 

With a glance at the clock, he sees it's eight pm, which means his mother will be sleeping. Perfect. 

What's not perfect however, is the gut-wrenching pain that gets worse and worse with every step he takes. Evan shuts the door behind him with his resolve renewed. He wants this to end, _needs_ this to end because he can't take it anymore. It hurts so much. Everything hurts so much. 

The trek to Ellison state park is slow-going. Evan knows how to walk there since he doesn't drive anyway. Without a ride, it's about a twenty-minute walk. On any other day it would be pleasant, but tonight it's torture. He's in so much pain that he thinks he might pass out, so he just cries instead. Cries and just keeps walking, even though he has to stop several times to throw up or curl into a ball. God, he's a lot worse than he was before he fell asleep. 

Which is why he just has to keep walking. 

When Evan finally gets to the park, he realises his plan has a glitch; it's too dark at this time of night to find the correct tree, or any tree for that matter. Somehow, his fuzzy brain reminds him that there's an abandoned apple orchard right next to the park that's been out of commission for years. It would be the perfect place for… this. Apple trees grow to about thirty feet. That would be enough, right? 

Well, Evan doesn't actually know. He really didn't do enough research, but he's already at the orcharch and it's too late to turn back now. 

The pain in his side is growing worse, if that's even possible. Somewhere along the way it crests to the point that Evan actually loses his footing and crumbles to the ground. He's shaking and shivering, both from fever and from the fear. 

Maybe he should turn back. He thinks about his mom and it cuts him to the core. Evan just wants his mom, wants her to hug him and tell him it's going to be okay. The tears are back now, and they're coming faster than before. He wants to sob but won't because he doesn't want to jostle his insides again. He's so scared. 

He can't go back, though. Going home will just buy him a one-way ticket to the ER. Money aside, the hospital itself is terrifying. He was always that kid who'd cower in the corner at his doctor's appointments. Evan has always had an innate fear of all things medical, especially needles. Even as a seventeen year old, he still hasn't quite grown out of that. 

Pathetic. 

The wind picks up and it's chilly. Evan tries to take in his surroundings and registers that he's now only a few feet away from a tree. Perfect, all he has to do is stand up, climb it and… well. 

There's another glitch. He can barely move, let alone _climb a tree_. 

Feeling like the ultimate moronic failure that he's just proven himself to be, Evan crawls over to the base of the tree and curls into himself. He's scared. He needs his mom. He needs somebody, anybody to help him, or to just _notice_ him for once. 

Evan considers calling his mom but doesn't have his phone, and he wants to panic but he just doesn't have the energy. He can't worry about his lack of insurance or medical bills or possible surgeries or all of the needles they'll have to stick him with. Maybe if he just stays here, his appendix will burst and eventually kill him. 

Hopefully. 

\-- 

Connor Murphy hates his house, but he loves getting out of it whenever he possibly can. 

He loves getting out even more when he has a full bag of freshly-bought weed and a night that he knows his sister and parents aren't going to bother him. Taking a lighter out of the center console, he gets out of the car and makes his way to his usual pot-smoking spot, the tree that overlooks the entire orchard and always provides the best view. 

He won't be getting much of a view tonight, he knows. Larry and Cynthia had an eight pm dinner reservation, so he had to wait it out for a while until they left the house. Luckily that also means they won't be back until midnight or even later, with all of Larry's schmoozing. 

Which gives Connor plenty of time to get high, and maybe even sketch if he can figure out how to maneuver his phone flashlight correctly. 

That would be all well and good if there weren't someone in his fucking spot. 

Connor feels an immediate flare of anger and resentment. Really? This is just his fucking luck. All he wanted was a quiet spot to just relax and be alone, and now some homeless druggie is probably shooting up heroin or something under _his_ tree. 

Connor brushes off the irony of that thought and stomps over to his sacred spot, already rehearsing in his head what he's going to say to this fucknut. 

Oh, wow. 

Connor stops dead in his tracks. The lighting is low, but he'd recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere. He's been crushing on it since like, the fifth grade, after all. 

Evan Hansen is curled up in a decidedly uncomfortable looking position in the middle of the abandoned orcharch that Connor likes to get high in, at nine-thirty on a Saturday night. What? 

If it were anyone else, Connor would be losing his mind right now, yelling and screaming that this person can take their substance-abusing ass and hightail it somewhere that Connor wouldn't have to look at them, but. It's _Evan_. 

Evan. One of the nicest (and _cutest_ , let's be real) people at their shitty, god-forsaken school, despite the fact that he's obviously a little anxious and shy. That never deterred Connor's crush, though. He thinks they probably have a lot in common. If only he could muster up the balls to talk to him. 

Well, apparently he's about to get his chance. Connor can tell from his iPhone's flashlight that Evan really doesn't look too well; he's paler than usual and sweating, despite the cool summer breeze and complete lack of humidity. Connor may technically not know Evan personally yet, but he highly doubts that this situation has anything to do with drugs or alcohol. 

He could be wrong about that, but either way Evan clearly needs some help. Connor's heart does a weird little somersault as he kneels down, putting a hand on Evan's shoulder and squeezing it. When he doesn't respond, Connor gives it a little shake, sighing in relief when Evan moves his head a bit. 

"Hey," Connor tries, feeling awkward as the word comes out in a softer, more comforting tone than what he usually uses. Well, that's what he was going for, he supposes. "Evan?" 

Evan doesn't move or respond again at all and that's when Connor really starts to get worried. Could he be dying? Shit, fuck no, please no. "Evan?!" he calls again, his voice having dropped the act as he fully gives in to the panic. 

Thankfully, after a few more minutes of calling out his name and shaking his shoulders, Evan groans and opens his eyes. 

"You're alive! Jesus fuck, you scared the shit out of me. What happened to you?" 

Evan just blinks his big blue doe eyes up at Connor blankly, looking like he has no idea where he even is, let alone that Connor had been talking to him. "Huh?" he mumbles after a few moments. 

"Hey Evan, it's Connor. Connor Murphy. We go to the same school. Can you tell me what's wrong?" Connor smiles a bit to himself because yep, he's definitely good at this. He should be a fucking EMT. 

Evan shakes his head before ducking down and curling into himself even more. "Hurts," comes the muffled reply. 

Connor tries to tamper down on his renewed fears. "What hurts, Evan?" Connors swears to god, if someone did something to harm this perfect specimen of a human being, they're going to have to answer to both him _and_ his brass knuckles. When he buys them, of course. 

"Um. Appendix." Evan says, barely above a whisper. He raises his head and looks up when Connor touches his shoulder again. "My appendix. Connor?" 

Connor smiles in triumph, happy to see that Evan is becoming a bit more lucid now. "Yeah, Connor. From our school, remember? What do you mean your appendix hurts? How would you even know that? And why are you all the way out here?" Connor doesn't want to overwhelm the kid with questions, but this situation kind of of calls for it. 

Evan just shakes his head again, burying it in his hands after a moment. "Aaagh," he moans in what sounds like pretty severe pain. 

Well, Connor can ask his questions later. If Evan is right, then he needs to get to a hospital, preferably sooner rather than later. "Come on then," he says as he takes Evan's hand, pointedly ignoring the flutters in his stomach when he realises he's touching his crush. _Ew, don't be a creep Connor. You need to help him._ "I'll give you a ride to the hospital." 

Evan doesn't budge, or even make an attempt at budging. "Evan?" Connor asks. "Can you walk?" 

In lieu of a response, Evan's head just kind of lulls to the side. _Shit._ He's sicker than Connor had originally thought. Something is really, really wrong, and if Connor doesn't do something… 

He doesn't want to think about it. Instead, he uses the adrenaline rush to his advantage. He runs back to his car, opens one of the back doors, then races at the speed of light back to the tree. "I know his is weird," Connor says as he awkwardly hovers above Evan, "but I gotta do this. You need to go to a hospital, and I'm gonna take you there in my car, okay?" Evan shifts a little but doesn't respond. 

"Now, since you clearly can't walk, I'm gonna… ugh, this is awkward but I'm gonna carry you, okay? I'm stronger than my string bean arms make me look, promise." 

Silently thanking whatever deities are out there for the aforementioned adrenaline rush that's now in full swing, Connor leans down and gathers a half-conscious, pliant and wow sorta soft Evan Hansen into his arms. 

He luckily doesn't put up a fight. At least not until Connor lays him down in the backseat of his car. 

The loud, unceremonious scream of pain is probably going to haunt Connor for the rest of his lift, but he can deal with that. What he can't deal with is the fact that halfway through the ride, Evan apparently regains consciousness and is now more aware of his surroundings than he's been all night. 

"Connor, you can't. We can't go to the hospital!" 

Connor is still just so fucking confused, but he wants to try to calm Evan down above anything, first. He sounds like he's panicking and that can't be good for his appendix, or whatever. "Why can't we?" 

"Insurance, I don't h-have insurance." 

Oh. Well now this is all starting to make a little more sense. "Don't worry about that, dude. They have safety-net programs and stuff, I'm sure. You could die if we don't get you taken care of." 

A long pause. "That was the point." 

It's a barely mumbled whisper, but Connor has always had pretty decent hearing. His stomach drops and he almost swerves off the road. Not Evan. Of all people... Evan? 

Him too? 

"Please don't talk like that in this car," Connor begs, wishing he'd never heard him say that. It's a conversation he can't have right now. Should he tell the hospital? Connor remembers where that got him last time he admitted to someone that he was having suicidal thoughts. 

Not very far, obviously. 

"You're gonna be okay, I promise." He's in no position to make a promise like that, and he isn't sure if he's trying convince Evan or himself. 

Evan is going to be okay. He _has_ to be okay. 


	2. Chapter 2

They're double parked in front of the emergency room's entrance and Evan won't get out of the car. 

In retrospect, Connor doesn't know why he's surprised; if anything, Evan has made it pretty clear that he has no intentions of going into that hospital tonight. Short of just picking him up and carrying him through the doors, Connor wants to try reasoning with him first. 

"Can't," Evan wheezes. Connor is unable to decide if he's lost his breath from the pain or from a possible oncoming panic attack. Maybe both? He turns around in the front seat to face Evan properly. 

"Listen. You have people that care about you and they wanna see you get better. Money isn't the issue right now. Besides, my family is rich, dude. Like, disgustingly filthy rich." Connor pauses then adds with a grumble, "I'm sure my mom would love to throw her money at something that actually _matters_." 

"It doesn't… it doesn't m-matter." 

Connor's heart breaks. It's like Evan has reached into his brain, pulled out his thoughts, and is now claiming them as his own. "You do, though... You do matter, Evan." He's trying really hard not to cry right now because that's definitely the last thing either of them needs. 

Besides, Connor doesn't cry, right? 

He's startled from his train of thought by a loud, drawn-out screech of pain from the backseat. 

Okay, no more fucking around. 

Leaping from the front seat of his car, Connor races to the entrance of the hospital and manages to grab a wheelchair from the vestibule. He hopes this will be easier and way less dramatic than actually having to carry Evan inside (although it would be kind of cool, now that he's picturing it). 

Connor opens the back door and pauses, taking in the sight before him. Evan's whole face is red, tears rolling down his cheeks and sweat beading at his forehead. He's leaning forward, one hand gripping the car seat in front of him for dear life, the other wrapped loosely around his middle. 

It doesn't take a medical professional, or even someone with half a brain to see that he's in some pretty excruciating pain. 

Connor weighs his options. He could go inside and ask a nurse to help him, or he could try to lure Evan out of the car himself. The first option seems best, but nurses tend to be busy and what if they don't get out here fast enough? Every second counts in a situation like this one. 

He's made up his mind. 

Connor gently takes Evan's arm - the one that looks like it's about to pop the headrest off of his passenger seat. "Come on Evan, let's get you some help." 

Evan acknowledges that. He turns his head to look up at Connor and they just sort of stare at each other for a long moment, but Evan still hasn't made any attempts at moving. 

The clock is ticking. 

Embarrassment and stupid crush be damned, Connor knows what he needs to do. He gently takes both of Evan's arms and pries them away from their previous positions. 

"Slowly." Connor instructs. "Just work with me, okay? We're gonna move you to this wheelchair and get you inside. They're going to help you and make all of that pain stop, I promise." 

Something Connor said or did must have worked, because Evan is now leaning on Connor as they slowly work on removing him from the car. 

Evan's pained whines and whimpers hurt Connor deeper than they probably should have, but he tries his best to ignore them. 

For once in his life, Connor knows for sure that he's doing the right thing. 

\-- 

Evan doesn't remember much of what happens after he leaves the triage bay. 

Whatever he does remember comes to him in flashes. 

A flash of his mom. This is the hospital she works at, which makes sense. It's the only one in town. She's looking down at him, touching his hair. She's been crying. 

Connor is there too. His mother hugs him and says something to him that Evan can't hear. 

There's still pain, but it's numb now. 

The world is swirling, going topsy-turvey. Connor is still there, and so is another woman he doesn't recognize. The woman is speaking to his mom and Connor is speaking to Evan. It's all muffled. 

What isn't muffled is the feeling of a tight grip on his hand, grounding him. 

If a doctor ever came in to see him, Evan doesn't remember it. 

Another flash of moving tiles on the hallway ceiling. He's being taken somewhere in the bed, surrounded by people in scrubs. One of them is his mom, but she's walking alongside them and talking to Evan. "I love you, sweetie." He hears that. 

The world goes dark. 

\-- 

"I couldn't. I just, that's so kind of you but I couldn't..." 

Connor sits in a chair in the curtained off area where Evan's bed once was. He was taken to the OR for surgery about an hour ago. The doctors say he was extremely lucky. 

Judging by how sick and out of it Evan seemed, Connor was sure his appendix had burst, or something equally terrible. However, the CT scan Evan was rushed into after being triaged showed that it did not burst, but was damn close. They gave Evan a heavy dose of morphine and something for his anxiety, so he mostly slept until it was time for the surgery. 

Obviously, they didn't have to wait very long. Evan was taken back to the OR almost immediately. 

Connor is so, so relieved. 

He can't help but listen in on the conversation happening between his mom and Evan's mom right outside of the curtains. He knew he made the right decision when he called Cynthia up and explained the situation. She might not be the best at helping her own children, but she's always loved a good charity case. 

"I won't take no for an answer," Cynthia says sweetly. Connor snorts. 

A pause. "I have a son too, as you can see," Cynthia continues softly. "I know what it's like to want to protect them at all costs. Please let me help you." 

A even longer pause. "Okay," Heidi finally relents. Connor cheers internally. "But I want to at least do something to pay you back! I can come by your house on Friday nights and clean, or anything else you might need..." 

"Okay. We'll talk about it once Evan's fully recovered, dear." 

Connor rolls his eyes and bites back a laugh. They already have a cleaner and Cynthia is probably just trying to appease. 

Sometimes her subtle ways of manipulating people actually do work out for the best. 

\-- 

Connor gets up and walks around the floor that Evan has been admitted to. He'll have to stay overnight, his nurses said. That would be all well and good, if Evan was actually out of surgery. 

Connor's worried. He paces. It's been two hours and he's already googled how long an appendectomy should take. A normal one with no complications usually only lasts about an hour. 

It's been way longer than that. Something is wrong. 

The nurses don't have any answers; especially not for Connor, who isn't family and is therefore blocked from that kind of information. Heidi seems worried too, but to be fair she's seemed worried since the moment she walked in. She's been trying in vain to get an update as well, despite the fact that she works there and probably knows the right people. 

Finally, finally, Connor sees a doctor walk behind the curtain. He hears him introduce himself to Heidi as Evan's surgeon. Connor darts behind the curtain as well, causing the surgeon to raise an eyebrow in hesitation until Heidi confirms that it's fine, that he can continue with whatever it is that he needs to say. 

According to the doctor, Evan is and will be okay, but there was a minor complication. Apparently, there had been some bleeding, meaning they had to convert to an open appendectomy to stop it. All that really means for Evan is a longer recovery time. 

That's pretty good news, all things considered. 

That doesn't stop Heidi from sobbing again, even as she nods in understanding and thanks the doctor profusely. A doctor who she is apparently on a first name basis with. Joel (he doesn't even look like a Joel to Connor) rubs her back comfortingly, and tells her he's going see to it that everything from here on out runs smoothly. 

After some consideration, Connor decides he's glad that this guy is the one who literally had Evan's life in his hands. 

Shortly after, Evan's bed is wheeled back into the little makeshift room by two tired-looking OR nurses. 

They start talking to Heidi, but she doesn't appear to hear them. Connor hopes that at least Cynthia was listening because he certainly isn't, either. 

Both of their focus is trained on Evan, who looks small, pale and helpless. There are wires everywhere, and despite the fact that he's still asleep, Connor can tell there are dark circles around his eyes where there weren't before. 

_He's fine_ , Connor tells himself. _Everyone said he's going to be fine._

When the nurses leave, Cynthia steps out to give Heidi some privacy and suggests that Connor do the same. He's about to argue, but Heidi immediately tells her that it's okay, that she wants Connor to be here. 

Well, that is definitely not the response Connor was expecting, but he doesn't question it. 

He stands on the opposite side of the bed, watching Evan carefully. When he glances over, Heidi is doing the same. 

Connor starts to feel awkward for a moment until Heidi breaks the silence. 

"I can't remember if I've thanked you yet, Connor. Either way, thank you so, so much for getting him here. I was so worried when I woke up and he wasn't at home. I'd hoped he'd taken himself to the hospital, but then I called in and he wasn't here..." 

Connor's throat tightens up and all he can squeeze out is, "Don't mention it." 

Heidi doesn't stop, though. "What you did…" her voice breaks, despite the fact that she's smiling. "You may have saved his life." She sniffles, then adds, "You're a hero, Connor." Heidi says that last part in a light, almost joking way, but Connor can tell she really means it. 

Well, fuck. Now he's going to cry, too. 

He allows himself to tear up. Heidi may never know just how much those words meant to him, and Connor doesn't know how to tell her. Instead, he mumbles a quick "Thank you." 

"Your mom told me that you found him in a park. Do you know why he was there?" 

Shit, shit. He should have left that part out. Now Heidi is asking questions, and he's sure Cynthia is going to ask the same question of him later on tonight. 

He should have just lied. 

Connor could lie now, but that wouldn't get Evan the help he needs. It isn't Connor's place to lie for him, or to even tell the truth, really. Instead, he says "I think you should ask him that question." 

Heidi squints in confusion, but thankfully drops the subject. "Okay, hon. Do you want to stay here or go be with your mom? You're welcome to hang out, but she went to the cafeteria and you must be getting hungry." 

The thought of leaving Evan's bedside forms a pit in Connor's stomach so deep that it negates any possible hunger he'd previously been feeling. "She'll probably get me something, but either way, I'd rather stay here." 

Heidi smiles. "You know... Evan is really lucky to have a friend like you." 

Connor takes Evan's hand and pointedly doesn't correct her. 

\-- 

Evan feels himself slowly start to lift out of one of the heaviest sleeps he's ever experienced. He hears voices. One is his mother, the other is… someone. Someone familiar. 

He blinks his eyes open, squinting in the fluorescent lights. 

"He's waking up," his mom says. "Connor honey, can you press the call button for a nurse?" 

Connor? 

The memories start to come back to him, bit by bit. 

Evan is... really tired. A nurse comes in and takes his blood pressure and temperature. She announces that his vitals are normal, then leaves with instructions to call her if they need anything. 

Evan's distracted by the twin faces of worry that are hovering on either side of his bed. 

His mother's face was to be expected. Connor's? Not so much, but Evan isn't complaining. 

"Oh sweetheart," his mom says. "You gave us all such a scare. How are you feeling?" 

Trying to use his voice is like trying to rub sandpaper over a bed of gravel. He's hoarse and thirsty and there's still a dull pain in his belly, but he must be on drugs or something because he's warm and tingly all over. 

The next thing he knows, there's a cup and a plastic straw near his face. Connor is the one offering it to him. 

His lifts his head and drinks deeply, then flops his head back to the pillow and tries to speak again. "Better," he answers truthfully. 

"Good, good. I'm sure we're both glad to hear that," Heidi coos as she runs her fingers through Evan's hair. 

The familiar action calms Even down a bit. He almost falls back asleep, but one thought won't stop poking at his brain. "W-we can't afford…" 

"It's okay." It's Connor's voice this time. "My parents are going to help cover the cost. Also, your mom does work here, so they're sorta giving her an employee discount. No need to worry, right Heidi?" 

"Right. You're very lucky, Evan." His mother says. "Connor brought you here, just in the nick of time, apparently. You really owe him a lot." 

"You don't owe me anything," Connor says immediately, staring down at him with the softest expression Evan has ever seen him use. "Just… get better, okay?" 

At that moment, Evan realises someone is holding his hand, and that it's obviously not his mother. 

Evan squeezes it, and Connor smiles. His eyes are light blue with a small brown spot in the corner. They're pretty. Connor is really, really pretty. 

"I will. Promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! ...For now. I actually do have an idea for at least another chapter, maybe? Where Heidi covers someone's shift for like four hours or something and then calls Connor to come sit with Evan. Except, that's the only idea I have lol. So! If you'd like to see more or have any ideas for that scene, let me know! (:
> 
>  
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE'S A CHAPTER THREE BECAUSE U KNOW I HAD TO MAKE SURE THESE LITTLE FUCKS FELL IN LOVE

"Would you mind if Connor comes over and sits with you for a while tonight, hon?"

Evan fidgets with the blanket he's currently wrapped up in on the living room couch. A million things are running through his mind all at once. 

His mother had already spoken to him yesterday about possibly covering one of her coworker's four-hour shifts tonight. She's apparently tied up with her four children and has no one else to watch them. Evan has been out of the hospital for five days already and is more than capable of taking care of himself for a few hours, but that's not what he's worried about. 

It's Connor. Not that he's necessarily _worried_ about Connor coming over. In fact, his heart had lept in excitement just now when his mother mentioned it. But. They're not exactly friends, or even acquaintances. 

What would they talk about? 

Evan doesn't even remember what took place during their interaction that night when Connor found him in the orchard. For all Evan knows, he told Connor exactly why he was there and what he was planning on doing. 

But still... _Connor_. 

"Of course not. That'd be great, mom." 

He takes a deep breath and tries to calm his heart rate. Logically, Evan is aware that trying to predict the future ("fortune telling", as his therapist like to calls it) isn't healthy and does nothing to minimize his anxiety. 

Instead, Evan tries to remind himself that no matter what was said that night, Connor had still done a lot for him. Not only had he driven him from the orchard to the hospital, but he also sat for hours until Evan was out of surgery. He even stayed for a while after that until Cynthia had forced him to go home with her. 

Connor must like him in some capacity if he'd gone through all of that, right? 

"Good!" she cheers, a little over-exuberantly. "I'm glad you'll have a friend here to keep you company. It must get pretty boring having to hang out with your lame old mother day in and day out, huh?" 

"N-no." Evan pointedly doesn't mention the fact that he's seen his mom more in the past five days than he probably has in the last five years combined. "It's been nice," he tells her honestly. 

"Aw, I'm glad, sweetie. I've enjoyed it too." She sits on the couch and eyes him in the worried way she's grown the habit of doing. "How are you feeling?" she asks as she leans over and meticulously feels his forehead. 

Evan considers. "A little better today." He's still in a lot of pain if he's being honest, but the medication he's been prescribed keeps the edge off for the most part. 

"Rate your pain, hon?" 

Damnit. Sometimes he really loathes the fact that his mother is a well-trained medical professional. "S-six?" 

"Alright, well let me give you your medications. Hopefully the pain meds will help you get in a little nap before Connor comes, and you'll wake up feeling better?" 

\-- 

Evan does wake up feeling a bit better, but whether that's thanks to his medication or the promise of Connor coming over soon is up for debate. 

He doesn't even get nervous again until the doorbell rings. Evan jumps, cringing a bit when his incision starts to sting from the sudden movement. He curls into himself and considers the merits of pretending to be asleep again, but then he hears Connor's voice. 

It's calming. Evan can't help but be reminded of the hospital and how much that voice had soothed him. He relaxes into the couch and trains his eyesight on the TV as he listens to his mom give Connor a quick tour of the house. 

It's a short tour, unsurprisingly. Their house isn't very big. 

"And here's Evan!" 

Evan whips his head around and makes sudden, unexpected eye contact with Connor. He darts his gaze away at first, but can't help but be drawn to the dazzling smile that Connor's wearing. 

Evan has passed Connor in the halls dozens of times during their years at school together, but he's never seen him smile like that. 

"You shouldn't have to do much, Connor. He just needs some company, right Evan? Oh, unless he gets hungry. There's leftover soup in the fridge you can heat up in the microwave and he takes his pain meds 'as needed' but he just had a dose so he should be fine. I already gave him his antibiotics, but if needs more pain meds they're in the kitchen above the sink." 

Geeze. Evan never realized until now that his tendency to ramble had been inherited. 

"Sure thing," Connor answers politely. "No worries, Ms. Hansen. He'll be alright." 

Evan wrings his hands. He wants to speak up and tell his mom that he could have told Connor all of that himself, but the words won't come out because now she's kissing his forehead and telling him goodbye. All Evan manages to squeak out is a small "Love you too," and then she's out the door. 

And now it's just him and Connor. Alone... for the second time, although it feels like the first time to Evan. 

Thankfully, Connor seems a little bit more relaxed. He flops onto the side of the couch opposite Evan, who can't hide the wince that occurs when he's jostled around a bit. 

"Oh shit!" Connor yelps immediately, apparently having caught Evan's expression. "Sorry, man. I wasn't even thinking." 

"I'm alright," Evan tells him as he wraps the blanket tighter around himself. 

Connor eyes him in a way that can only be described as suspicious. "It's okay if you're not alright, though." A protracted pause, during which Evan nearly has a heart attack. "You just had major surgery, after all." 

Wait. What did Connor mean by ' _It's okay if you're not alright_ '? There was definitely subtext in there somewhere, right? Crap. Connor knows, he definitely knows. Oh god, Evan must have spilled his guts to him in the orchard after all. 

"So… how have you been?" Connor asks suddenly. 

"Iwasn'tgonnadoit!" Evan spits out, eyes closed and head downcast. "I mean, erm. That night at the orchard, I. I wasn't gonna do what you t-think, or what you thought I was gonna do. Well, I guess, I mean I _was_ gonna do it at the time but. I'm fine now! I'm n-not gonna do... uh, that." 

"Wow," Connor says after Evan finishes his pathetic rambling. "I didn't think we'd get to this subject right away, but it had to be brought up eventually, I guess." 

Before Evan can over-analyze that statement and try to come up with a response, Connor cuts him off with a sigh. "I get it, Evan." 

Evan looks up at Connor and takes in his expression. 

He looks… sad. 

"You get it?" Evan asks, not knowing what else to say. 

"I mean that I've… tried, before. Except that my method wasn't by way of foregoing emergency medical treatment." Connor's looking down, watching his hands as they fidget awkwardly in his lap. It's so familiar to Evan that it calms him down slightly, despite the heavy topic they're discussing. 

"We can get into the gritty details later, but I don't want this to be about me. I just want to make sure you know that you're not alone." 

Evan swallows, feeling his eyes burn. He chances a glance across the couch again. The sight of Connor Murphy, looking so lost and broken hurts him in a way he never thought possible. 

Before he can overthink it, Evan scootches across the couch. He ignores the spark of dull pain and reaches out for Connor's arm, lightly patting it. "N-neither are you." 

Evan feels himself blush. Holy crap. He isn't sure if it's the medication that's lowered his inhibitions or maybe it's just Connor, but Evan doesn't think he's ever made such a forward move in his entire lifetime. 

Connor looks up, but doesn't say anything. 

"You're not alone either," Evan reiterates. "I don't want you to feel like that. So if you ever do… uh, feel like that again or even if you do right now. You can tell me." 

Blessedly, that puts the pretty smile back on Connor's face. "Thanks, Evan. The same goes for you. Do you wanna… talk about it? You know, while you're mom's not here? I'm assuming she still doesn't know." 

Evan breaks their eye contact and looks down, shaking his head. "No, she doesn't know. She's been so worried about my recovery... I wouldn't want to dump that on her plate, too." 

"But that's the thing, Ev. This is part of your recovery, too. Your body and mind are connected. Pretty sure I don't need to tell you that," Connor adds with a small laugh. 

"I-I know," he nods. Connor's right, and Evan wants to tell him as much, but he's distracted by something. 

He decides to finally ask the question that's been bouncing around in his brain for days now. 

"What did I tell you that night?" Evan clenches his fists hard and closes his eyes again. "Like... I don't remember our conversation at all. What did I say?" _Please don't let it be anything stupid or embarrassing, oh god._

"Not much, really." Connor shrugs. "You were pretty out of it and you didn't really talk much until you got in my car. I know what you're asking, though." He pauses and seems to contemplate something for a moment. 

"I think I said something like 'You could die, Evan' and you told me that that was the point. That you _wanted_ to die. Is... that what you meant?" 

Evan takes a deep breath. He can't believe he's about to be this honest with someone he barely knows. 

Well, he supposes Connor isn't someone he barely knows, at least not anymore. Strange as it seems, Evan actually feels a strong connection to the boy sitting across from him. 

A boy who literally saved his life, even when Evan himself didn't want it saved. 

"Yeah, but that wasn't the original plan," Evan sniffles and tries to hold back an oncoming sob. "I-I'd been wanting to do it for months. I have a summer internship at the s-state park next to that orchard and I was gona jump out of one of those trees at some point. The only reason I was in the orchard that night was because it was too dark in the forest to see anything." 

Evan tries not to choke on his own spit as he huffs out a fake laugh. There are tears rolling down his cheeks now but he ignores them and wraps his arms tightly around himself before continuing. "I guess I thought I could climb one of the apple trees, but after that it all gets fuzzy." 

There's silence, and it's heavy. 

Evan's breathing picks up. Had he said too much? He worries he might be spiraling into an anxiety attack, but then Connor speaks. 

"I swallowed an entire bottle of my mom's Xanax prescription two years ago. The only reason it didn't kill me is because she took two a day instead of one and I didn't count them." Connor pauses, then laughs a little bitterly this time. "I didn't even know how much it would've taken to kill me. I should have Googled around more." 

Evan smiles a little, despite the fact that nothing about this situation is funny. "I thought the same thing." He hugs himself tighter. "I didn't even think to Google how high up I'd need to be for the fall to kill me." 

Connor barks out a laugh again and Evan looks over at him. He's smiling, but his eyes are wet and shiny. Had Connor been crying, too? 

"Guess it's a good thing we're shit at killing ourselves, huh Hansen?" 

"Y-yeah… yeah, it is." 

Neither boy speaks for a few moments, but Evan has more to say. "If I tell my mom, then… I want you to tell your mom, too. Or someone. Anyone? I just. I want you to get the help you need, Connor." 

This time, their eye contact almost knocks Evan out. They're close, smushed on the couch with only about an inch or two between them. Connor's pale blue eyes are practically boring into Evan's soul, but in a good way. 

For the first time, Evan isn't afraid of being judged by another person's stare. 

This must be what it feels like to truly be seen by someone. 

"I can try." Connor answers in a small voice. "My parents are kinda the worst, though. One little slip up could mean big consequences for me. If they think I'm gonna kill myself again... they're not gonna handle it well." 

Evan's throat tightens and he awkwardly tries to clear it. "I guess… I guess no one's parents would really handle that kind of news very well? My mom is definitely going to freak out, too." 

"Yeah, but your mom is cool as shit. She's not going to threaten to lock you away somewhere or ransack your room looking for any trace of drugs or sharp objects." 

Evan shrugs, considering. "She might. I don't know." 

"You're still telling her," Connor says sharply. 

"Okay," Evan agrees. "But I'm going to bug you about telling your mom, too. And if it goes badly, just let me know. Maybe we can talk to my mom and she can be the one to help you instead?" 

Connor beams at that, and it's beautiful. "Deal. But," Connor closes the space between them and oh my god, they're touching. "How are you gonna bug me about anything if you don't have my number, hmm?" 

Evan feels his cheeks heat up. If he didn't know better, he'd say Connor Murphy was flirting with him. "Good point," he squeaks out before digging around the couch for his phone and handing it over to Connor. 

Connor raises his eyebrows, looking surprised. "Wow. Usually people don't just hand their phones over like that, especially not to me." Connor scoffs playfully as Evan watches him punch in his number. "I must have managed to gain to trust somehow. I'm honored." 

"You did." Evan answers quickly. "A-and, I wanted to thank you. I don't think I've done that properly yet? I don't remember but. Thanks, f-for helping me and doing all of that stuff that you totally didn't have to do and, for helping us out with the medical bills. That's really, really nice of you and your family and I know the financial aspect is technically between our moms but I wanna make it up to you. I mean for, you know, everything else." 

The next thing Connor does would normally garner some kind of panicked, physical reaction from Evan, but it doesn't. Connor finishes putting his number in Evan's phone, reaches over to gently plop it in Evan's lap and then… he takes Evan's hand and holds it. 

"You already are," Connor tells him simply. 

That's the only reassurance Evan needs. He looks down at their now linked-together hands and smiles, despite his burning cheeks. 

Evan squeezes Connor's hand tightly. "Glad to hear it." 

"Alright, enough of the heavy shit." Connor says after a few minutes. "Let's watch a movie, shall we?" 

That's how Evan ends up shamelessly cuddled against Connor, tucked securely under one of his arms and feeling closer than he's ever felt with another person his age. 

Wow. Evan is really falling fast and hard for Connor Murphy. 

That fact alone isn't worrying, but the possibility that Connor might not feel the same way? It's enough to make Evan's head spin. 

When Connor confesses via text message a week later that he's had a crush on Evan since he was ten year old though, Evan realises all of the wondering and worrying had been silly. 

They go out for lunch once Evan's fully recovered, and he blessedly doesn't chicken out when he gets the opportunity to tell Connor how he feels. It goes pretty well, despite his lingering doubts. 

If Evan ever needed any more reassurances that yes, Connor Murphy definitely likes him back, the kiss that he receives at the end of their date is proof enough. 

They still have a lot to deal with. The two of them have set a day for when they plan on telling their respective parents about the suicidal thoughts they've had to deal with by themselves for far too long. 

But now, they don't need to deal with anything by themselves. 

At the end of the day, Connor and Evan know that they at least have each other. For now, that's all that really matters. 


End file.
